


Learning to Smile Again

by Do_the_Cool_Whip



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred watches two hurting children fall in love with each other, Eventual Superheroes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Made For Each Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9084070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Do_the_Cool_Whip/pseuds/Do_the_Cool_Whip
Summary: It’s been six month since the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Bruce is not coping well. In an attempt to make his charge, if not happy, slightly less miserable, Alfred Penyworth takes him to the circus. There they meet the charming Dick Grayson, a seven-year-old who dedicates his day to making Bruce’s as happy and memorable as he can. The trip would have been a complete success, if not for the murder of the Flying Graysons. An AU where traumatized!child!Bruce meets traumatized!child!Dick and the two teach other to heal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I kept having to manually change things in this to non ABO. If you see any references to Omega!Dick, let me know so I can remove it. Honestly, I might have a problem.

“Because my parents are dead!” Looking back on this moment in the future, Bruce would agree that as a child, he had a bit of a flare for the dramatics. He would agree that when a small kid asks you what’s wrong and tries to comfort you, you probably shouldn’t slap them in the face with that sort of revelation. 

But in this moment, he is grieving and upset and hurt and sad and no matter what Alfred says, he is not okay. Things are not okay and they will never be okay again. He is ten now, he is ten and his parents will never know, will never see him turn ten because they are dead. 

And that thing—because no man would ever do what he had done, you would have to be a monster because they gave him the money! They did everything he said and he still—is out there somewhere, walking around while his parents rot in the ground. But not for much longer. Because Bruce saw him, he had just walked past him, walking around the crowd of the circus like he has a right to do so. And yeah, he has lost Alfred to the rush of people in his desperation to get that man, and yeah, Alfred will be mad when he catches up to him. But he will forgive him, he will have to when he sees Bruce standing over the man who has ruined everything—stands over him while he cowers on the ground small and scared and too weak to do anything to stop what was happening. Nothing but the sinking knowledge that the end has come and it is all his fault in the first place. Because maybe if he had said something, misbehaved or dropped something they wouldn’t have gone down that alley and—and made him pay. 

Except, when Bruce finally catches up to the man who has ruined his life, he turns out to be a different man. With a young daughter, and a wife, and long blond hair that frames his face instead of short dark hair that is barely concealed by an old battered hat. The only thing that is the same is the colour of the trench coat he is wearing. Beige. That is the only thing that is the same because even the design is different, with buckles and a zipper instead of buttons. 

In that instance Bruce hates that man. For tricking him into thinking that his parents’ killer will finally be dealt with. For being a dad that takes time off to have a day with his family. For being alive and able to celebrate his daughter’s tenth birthday. 

What he would have done to this man, this man he hates for being everything he could never have again is something he will never find out because in that instance—when he is at his absolute worst because Dick always shows up to save him when he is at his absolute worst—a small boy drops down from the sky to land in front of him. 

Literally. 

“Boo.” he giggles.  

Bruce just stares. 

“So,” he continues, “I was walking around and I couldn’t help but notice that you’re sad. You’re at the circus and you’re sad and that’s just wrong. Why so glum, chum?” 

And “chum” is probably what does it. Because if the boy had used any other word, Bruce probably would have had a less dramatic answer. Something less personal, more cutting, something to keep Dick away from him, instead of one that gave him a way in. It is a loss of control and losing control is a mistake because when you have no control people end up dead. 

It is the best mistake he will ever make. One he will make again and again and again. Because he will learn that this kid will always be able to get under his skin. Make him lose control and Bruce will grow to hate this as much as he desperately needs it. 

“Because my parents are dead!” 

The boy stares at Bruce, vivid blue eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. It is as they are staring at each other that Bruce feels a burning in his eyes. That prickling sensation that means he is feeling too much. He needs to get away and hide and do anything to prevent anyone from seeing how he feels. Because it is too much and they will all give him that sad pitiful look and tell him everything will be alright. Because they don’t understand, not even Alfred understands. Nothing is alright and nothing will ever be alright 

Bruce goes completely still when he feels small arms wrap around him. This is… not completely terrible. Because even though he has a complete stranger wrapped around him, this is the closest he’s gotten to a hug in a long time. His mo— _she_  used to hug him all the time. And his da— _he_  used to give him the occasional hug whenever he was around. Alfred had never been the most affectionate person, usually providing a hand on the shoulder or a small nod and smile, instead of the large gestures of affection he was used to. After his par—after  _it_  happened Alfred has been willing to give Bruce as many hugs as he needs, but lately that has trickled to a grinding halt. Every time Bruce pulls away abruptly or snaps at Alfred for touching him, Alfred will look at him with that calm gaze, take a step back, and continue with what he was doing. And more importantly, he never does it again. 

It had taken awhile to figure out how Alfred worked. To figure out how to let him know that Bruce didn’t need his affection. He doesn’t need anything that has to be supplied by another person. Not affection, not sympathy, and certainly not help. Because the last time he needed someone’s help, no one had come and so now his parents—but, that will never be the case again. It’s hard. Not needing anyone is hard and he isn’t very good at it yet.  But practice makes perfect. That’s what his da— _he_  had always said. So, he will practice, and keep practicing until he is perfect. Until he reaches the point where he never has to rely on anyone again. 

Bruce tries to shove the boy off him. But, it’s pointless. He clings to him, arms more closely resembling a tentacle monster from a horror movie in how tightly they squeeze him. “What are you doing?” 

“You need hugs.” the boy replies, jumping up to wrap his legs around Bruce’s waist and burying his face in his neck. 

“What?” Because he’s wrong. Bruce doesn’t need hugs. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if my parents died and I don’t want to think about that because that’s scary and it hurts too much. But if something did happen to them, I would need hugs. Lots and lots of hugs. Because I get most of my hugs from them and if something—I would need hugs.” There’s a beat of silence. “I’m Dick. Who’re you?” 

And while practice makes perfect, his d—he had also said it was important not to overwork yourself and to take breaks. And so, maybe just for a little while he could take a break from not needing anything from anyone. Because this is the closest anyone had ever gotten to understanding. 

“My name is Bruce.” 

* * *

Alfred finds them five minutes later. Dick has gone back to standing on the ground and is now asking the most useless questions. “Would you rather eat poison ivy or a handful of bumblebees?” 

“What?” 

Dick is giggling and Bruce can feel his lips twitching just a bit. 

“Would you rather eat poison ivy or a handful of bumblebees?” 

“Those are both terrible options.” 

“Pick one!” 

“Poison ivy because it’s more likely that a doctor would know what to do about that.” 

“Okay, now you ask me one.” 

“What?” 

“Bruce!” 

Bruce sighs, unable to stop the small smile from creeping onto his lips. “Are you pouting?” he reaches over and gently squishes Dick’s cheeks together. 

“Glub, glub!” 

“What?” Bruce pulls his hands away from Dick’s cheeks and stares at him. 

“You gave me fish lips,” Dick states, squishing his cheeks back together, “and fishes say, ‘glub, glub!’”  

“What?” A small laugh makes its way out of his throat.

“Glub, glub!”

“What fish says that?”

“Says what?” Dick asks, grinning as he reaches for Bruce’s face.

Bruce smiles and swats Dick’s hands away. “I’m not saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“No! It’s not happening.”

Dick starts laughing, small hands constantly trying to touch his face, and Bruce bats them away each time. “Then, I guess I’ll just have to turn you into a fish, won’t I?”

He hears a throat clear, and when Bruce looks up he sees Alfred. The small smile on his lips slips off and he waits for Alfred to start lecturing him for taking off. “Master Bruce, is there a reason you took off like the hounds of hell were at your heels?”

Bruce is not hurt at Alfred’s assumption that he ran off for no reason, he isn’t hurt one little bit. As he readies himself to explain what happened, he feels two small hands latch onto his face and press his cheeks together.

Dick is grinning up at him, and there’s a bit of a expectant, but mischievous, twinkle in his eyes. “Well…” he trails off when he notices how disappointed Dick looks. “The reason is glub, glub. Glub, glub, glub, glub. Glub, glub. Glub, glub, glub, glub, glub.” Dick throws his head back and starts laughing gleefully, and Bruce can’t stop himself from joining in. He glances up from the corner of his eyes, as he waits for Alfred to begin lecturing him and is surprised by the soft smile on his butler’s face.

“In that case, Master Bruce, I agree with your reasoning. We shall continue our tour of the circus, but at a much slower pace.”

“Of course.”

“Hi, I’m Dick.” Dick offers out his hands, and Alfred gently shakes it.

“A pleasure, Mr. Dick, I am Alfred Pennyworth.”

“If you’re going around the circus, I can show you all the best things to do before the show starts.” Dick offers, grabbing Bruce’s hand and entwining their fingers together.

He has tiny hands, but Bruce can tell that they fit nicely in his own. He gives Dick’s hand a small squeeze and when Dick smiles and squeezes back, beaming at him.

“Well, then, Mr. Dick. Lead the way.”

* * *

Dick really does know all the best places in the circus. They do everything they can. They visit most of the booths and every time Alfred pays for them to play a game, Dick lets Bruce try and offers advice that helps him win. Dick even wins him a large Gray Ghost plush that causes Alfred to force them to make a detour to leave in the car. Dick even manages to talk Alfred into buying them hotdogs for lunch instead of having the sandwiches he had prepared beforehand.

In front of them, a toddler drops his stuffed bear. His parents don’t notice and try to drag him off which causes him to cry. Dick takes off into a sprint and Bruce watches amazed as he does all sorts of crazy flips, picks up the toy on his way back up from one flip, and jumps over the toddler’s head to land in front of him. Bruce can’t hear what Dick says, but he does hear the child squeal happily when Dick hands him his bear.

“Alfred, did you see that?” he asks, pointing at Dick who is grinning at him as he walks back over. “No wonder I thought he dropped out of the sky! He jumped over my head earlier!”

“That was rather impressive, Mr. Dick.” Alfred pats Dick gently on the shoulder when he’s close enough to them.

“Thanks!” Dick reaches for Bruce’s hand again and gives it a small squeeze and Bruce can’t stop himself from squeezing back.

This morning when Alfred had told him they were going to the circus, Bruce had been so mad. He hadn’t wanted to go to the circus, he wanted to stay home and do something productive. He’d found a section in a children’s science book that claimed it was possible to extract the DNA of a strawberry with soap and rubbing alcohol. He’d been prepping for this experiment for ages and Alfred’s plan had thrown a wrench in them.

He’s glad, though. If he hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have met Dick, and Dick was a lot of fun.

“Well,” Dick hums softly, “we’ve done almost everything there is to do before the show.”

Bruce he feels his grip loosen on Dick’s hand. They can’t be out of things to do. If they run out of things to do, Dick will leave, and Bruce doesn’t want Dick to leave. When Dick leaves, he’ll take his happy smile and his energy and everything will go back to being—“Wanna go see the Eleanor?” Dick asks, gripping Bruce’s hand tightly.

“Whose Eleanor?” Bruce tightens his grip and Dick swings their joint hands.

“My best friend!” Dick chirps.

Bruce freezes, he tries to take his hand back, and Dick lets go. Bruce doesn’t start crying. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t care that Dick has a best friend that isn’t him, not one bit. He’s ready to go home now, the circus is boring. Eleanor is probably really stupid, just like Di—Dick throws himself onto Bruce and pulls him into a hug, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’ll like Eleanor. She’s a lot of fun, promise.”

Bruce reaches a hand up and presses it to his cheek. “Alright,” he says after moment, “let’s go see her.”

“Come on, then! This way!”

* * *

There’s a small tent set up slightly off to the side to the area Dick is leading them to and while Bruce can’t see any elephants, yet, he can definitely smell them. Dick pulls away from Bruce, and Bruce’s hand instantly feels cold.

“One sec, I just gotta let Pop know what we’re doing.”

Dick pulls the flap of the tent open and slips in silently. After a moment, a man storms out of the tent, and a second later Dick comes back out. He looks confused and looks over his shoulders. “What was that about Pop? Why was he asking—”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Dick.” A large man says, stepping out behind Dick. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Bruce and this is Alfie, we’re going to go see Eleanor. Guys, this is Pop.”

Bruce almost chokes at the introduction, Alfred’s lip twitches and he steps forward to speak to the man. “Alfred Pennyworth, a pleasure to meet you.”

Dick grins and pulls Bruce away from them. “We’ll be right back!” he calls over his shoulders and drags Bruce off towards the source of the stench in the area.

Eleanor is an elephant. She is huge and Bruce is surprised by how gentle she is. She picks him up with her trunk and holds him close to her face. “Elephant hugs!” Dick cheers, grabbing onto her trunk and climbing up to wrap both her face and Bruce in a hug.

“Won’t she drop us?” Bruce asks, staring at Dick’s precarious position on Eleanor’s trunk as she holds Bruce up.

“Of course not, she’s really strong and we’re not that heavy.”

“Dick?” A blond woman walks over to them and picks Dick up and dumps him onto the ground. “Shows about to start, we need to get Eleanor into her place.”

“Aww, okay, Katie. Bruce, we gotta go.”

Bruce nods his head, but he has no idea how he’s going to get down from here, when he hears two firm claps, and Eleanor gently places him back on the ground. Dick hands him an apple, and when Bruce stare at him confused, he laughs and gestures to Eleanor. Eleanor takes it from him and Bruce is a little awed by the sight of her using that same massive and strong trunk that she used to pick him up, being delicately maneuvered to take the apple.

“Later, kids.” Katie says and leads Eleanor away.

Bruce takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he turns to Dick. “You were right.”

“What?”

He gives Dick a small grin. “I did like Eleanor.”

Dick grins back at him.

“Dick! There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Another woman, this one with thick black hair, runs over to them. “I should’ve known you’d be with Eleanor.”

She swoops down and pulls Dick into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Bruce looks away. He doesn’t need to be introduced to know who this woman is. It hurts. The knowledge that he can never have this again hurts. He just has to remind himself not to think about it. That thing will get what’s coming to him, he’ll make sure of it. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. Don’t think about—

“Bruce?” Dick pulls on his sleeve and lifts Bruce’s arm enough to be able to grasp his hands. Gently, he pries Bruce’s clenched fingers open and interlaces their fingers together. “Bruce, this is my mom. Mom, this is my friend Bruce.”

The woman smiles at him and Bruce can see Dick in her smile. “Hello, Bruce, my name is Mary.”

Bruce nods politely at her. He doesn’t know what to say and if there’s one thing he’s learned since _it_ happened, it’s that other kids leave when their parents are around. They only ever have time to do things with him until their mom or dad appears. Dick is going to leave with his mother now, but Bruce doesn’t care. He’s had a nice little break from not needing anyone and now that it’s—“Thanks for watching my son, Bruce. I know he can be a bit of a handle.”

Mary reaches out and gently ruffles his hair and Bruce smiles slightly at the offended squawking sound Dick makes. “I am not! Bruce, tell her I’m not too much to handle!”

Bruce laughs and the sound startles him into laughing harder. “I don’t think I should be lying to you mother.”

Mary throws her head back and laughs. “Bruce!” Dick wails, throwing himself onto Bruce’s back. “How could you?”

When Mary calms down, she reaches forward and runs her fingers though Dick’s hair. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Bruce. Will we see you after the show?”

It’s a dismissal and Bruce is smart enough to recognize it for what it is. The smile slips off his face. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“Well, I hope we do.” She stands up and stretches and Bruce turns to leave.

Dick grabs his hand again and pulls him back. “Wait for me, Bruce.” He turns back to Mary and grins at her. “Mum, I’m going to take Bruce to the good seats. I’ll be back before our set.”

Mary smiles at them and crouches back down. “Well, Bruce, it seems I’ll have to ask you to look out for Dick for a little longer. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” Bruce promises, “I’ll take good care of him.”

Mary reaches forward and Bruce feels his eyes water when she pulls him into a hug. It’s soft and warm and everything he’s wanted for so long, but never thought he would ever feel again. “Thanks, Bruce.” Mary presses a kiss to his forehead and Bruce returns the hug gently.

* * *

The walk to the Big Top is short, but Bruce feels content in a way that he can’t explain. Alfred walks slightly behind them and Dick swings their clasped hands together. They step into the tent and Dick pauses for a second.

“Dick?”

“He’s not supposed to be back there.” Dick whispers, gesturing to a man that is walking out of an area sectioned off by a tent flap. It’s the same man from earlier, the one who stormed out of Pop’s tent.

Dick is biting his lip gently, so Bruce gives his hand a squeeze and Dick stops and smiles at him. “I’ll tell someone later. Come on, let’s go get you the good seats.”

The good seats turn out to be any seat that they want because the audience section is completely empty. “What do you want to see most?”

“I thought you said you were going to take us to the good seats.”

“I am!” Dick laughs. “But, depending on what you want to see, determines where the best seats are. The knife throwing, strong men, and clowns are best seen from the front seats, but the tight rope and trapeze acts are better from the middle row.”

“Well, which act are you a part of?” It’s just a guess, but everyone who works here knows Dick, the people at the games booth willingly gave them free retry session unless someone else wanted to play, and Dick did introduce him to Eleanor. It only makes sense for Dick to actually be a part of the circus for all of that to work out how it did.

“The trapeze!” Dick is bouncing. “It’s the best thing in the world! We should talk Alfie into letting you try it, we don’t use the net, but since you’re a beginner we can pull it out in case you fall. It’ll be so much fun!”

Bruce turns to Alfred and Alfred chuckles softly. “We’ll have to check with your parents first, Mr. Dick.”

“Mary said I could come by after the show.” Bruce offers.

“And Mary is?”

“My mom.” Dick says, giving Bruce’s hand another squeeze. Bruce squeezes back and he gets another smile from Dick.

“I want to see the trapeze act the most.” Dick’s smile gets so large Bruce wonders how it manages to fit on his face.

Dick stays until the crowd filters into the tent. Pop steps into the centre of the ring and begins making announcements. Dick leans in close to Bruce’s ear and whispers, “Bruce, I’m going to do my special flip for you.”

Wide eyed, Bruce turns to him. “Why?”

“Because I’m really glad I met you.” He leans forward, presses his lips to Bruce’s cheek again, smiles, and scampers off.

Bruce doesn’t know what to say. He gently pulls on Alfred’s arm until the man leans down so Bruce can whisper in his ear. “The circus was a good idea. Can we come again tomorrow?”

Alfred smiles, wraps one arm around Bruce and pulls him close. “Of course, Master Bruce.”

* * *

They’ve sat through most of the show and are closing in on the final act. It’s been amazing, the knife throwing was really cool and the clowns actually made Bruce laugh so hard he almost cried. He’s excited for Dick’s act, he can’t even imagine how amazing it will be. He wonders if it will be as awesome as the tight rope act.

The spotlight focuses up above, and there’s an introduction for The Flying Graysons. Dick and Mary both wave at him, and the man standing by their side throws a smile in his direction. Their act starts and Bruce realizes the reason it’s the last one of the night. It really is the best thing in the world. Pop makes an announcement about Dick’s Quadruple Flip of Doom, reminds the audience of the lack of net, and Bruce heart starts pounding in his chest.

Dick stands on his platform, waves at Bruce once more, and jumps out to his Mary’s outstretched arms. It’s amazing what Dick can do and when he completes his flip, his father snatching him out of the air, Bruce leaps to his feet and cheers. Dick is back on the platform, bowing to the audience, when there’s a loud snapping noise. Bruce turns his head to look at the Graysons still on the trapeze, for a second he sees them suspended in air, but then Alfred grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to look away.

He doesn’t see them fall, but he hears their bodies hitting the ground.

And just like that Bruce is back in the alley. Mom and dad aren’t getting up, the man is standing over him, pointing the smoking gun at him and Bruce doesn’t know what to do. He’s struggling to breathe; every breath he manages to draw in is tinged with the taste of blood. Bruce is going to die here in this alley with his parents and there’s nothing he can do. Nothing he can do will ever fix this or bring them back and Bruce wishes he had been shot fir—

Dick cries out and Bruce is pulled from his thoughts. He scrambling down from his platform and Bruce knows what he’s going to do and he has to stop him. He’s going to get covered in his parents’ blood and that never washes away no matter how hard you scrub. The scent lingers and your skin always has this pinkish tinge to it.

He races towards Dick, in the back of his mind he hears Alfred calling for him, but Bruce can’t stop, he has to get there before Dick tries to wake them up.

It’s not fair, though. Someone should have stopped this. It never should have gotten this far. If someone had just acted, jumped out of the shadows and moved, maybe they would still be alive and not dead on the floor.

A bullet hole driven through their head.

Bruce wonders if he can do it. Save everyone. Just hide in the shadows and then when someone’s in trouble jump out and save them. He thinks he can do it. Save people so no one else dies. Not like this.

He makes it to Dick, but he’s too late. He’s kneeling by his parents shaking them and pleading with them to get up. There’s blood on his hands and Bruce regrets not moving faster.

He doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing he can do to fix this. He promised Mary he would look after Dick. He promised and Bruce isn’t sure what to do. He can’t help Dick, just like he couldn’t help Mary.

Just like he couldn’t help his parents.

“Dick.” He reaches for Dick, but Bruce has no idea what he’s going to do.

Dick turns to face him, sobs and throws himself into Bruce’s arms, clinging to him tightly. Bruce flounders for a second, struggles to think of what he can do to help, and then he remembers.

_“But if something did happen to them, I would need hugs. Lots and lots of hugs.”_

Bruce hugs Dick just as tightly. He promised Mary that he would look after him, so Bruce promises himself to never let go.


End file.
